Poor guy. This was the kind of thing I'd been personally avoiding for years, but I still felt a decent amount of empathy. I didn't think it'd be a good idea to admit that, though. He probably wouldn't believe me. After all, I was pretty sure that Bandy almost hadn't, and the circumstances had been pretty different.

This guy was terribly light. At first that worried me, but then I took his size into account. He was a petite person, and cute. The hair had been kind of a shock, but not a bad one, and I like the orange better than the wig. "I like your hair," I said before I could shut myself up.

Robin blushed again, which offset his hair and made him look like an oddly-dressed candle. "Th-thanks," he said, looking away.

Gah, how dumb could I get? I just had a thing for bright hair. He probably thought I had a problem now, blurting out idiotic things like that. Like a simpleton. I walked faster, careful not to bump him.

He clutched at me anyway. "Sorry," I mumbled, not sure if I was blushing or not. I didn't do it that much, but then, I didn't often have a reason to. "Um, have you been in Ibaia long?" I hoped notif he had, then I was blind as well as stupid. He already seemed like someone I'd be friends with. And he apparently needed a friend my height who could kick like a mule and didn't like certain people populating the frat dorms.

Which is to say, any of them.

"What month is it?" he asked, still not looking at me. His ears had turned pink, and were wiggling slightly. "Because if it's June, then it's been two years."

I nodded to myself. No excuseor maybe "Do you usually avoid this area?"

"You mean Jockland? It really depends." He laughed, lessening the blush and allowing his freckles to show up. Unfortunately, I had a tendency to want to play connect-the-dots with other people's freckles I blamed my little sister. It was her favorite game.

It didn't help that he looked like a sprite, and had already exhibited a sense of humor. I lifted him up a bit higher so he wouldn't drophe really was tiny. But nevertheless his own kind of individual perfect. His face was angular, like an illustrated pixie, and everything sort of pronounced itself just enough to get attention but not look googly.

"Hang on a second, I'm going to do something strange."

"Forgive me for being a little apprehensivebut what strange thing are you gonna do?" He sounded anxious, and I guess I couldn't blame him.

I laughed anyway, since that always came easily. "Nothing that'll directly affect you, I promise." Then, because I was used to cynical people, I added, "And I always keep all of my promises."

He relaxed a bit, but that may have just been because his muscles badly needed to relax. He'd confessed to being stuck up there for a long time. I stepped on the back of one of my shoes and tugged my foot free, wiggled my toes a bit to make the sock free them up, and then reached up to grip the doorknob.

Robin burst out laughing, but I didn't lose my balance. "You could just put me down, you know," he chided.

I made an innocent face. I was good at those, even my mother still believed them. "There's no challenge in that. And this is more fun." I pushed the door open and put my shoe back on, then flounced up the stairs. There's nothing quite like flouncing when you're carrying someone.

Especially when that someone is a cute little guy holding onto you in a way that suggests complaints will definitely rise if you even think of putting him down. I put an extra flounce in the second flight of stairs, then slowed down as we reached the door.

Some awkwardness was beginning to settle. This usually happened after I'd decided to be silly around someone I didn't actually know well. And it was going to get worse. I knocked instead of using my foot to open the doorit was a nice trick, but doing it too much would make it lose its charmand waited for Bandy to get off his ass and let us in.

Oh god Bandy. He was going to be a bastard, wasn't he? It had been a gamble at the best of times, but lately he'd been weird. Nice sometimesI mean freaky nice, as if he actually liked me and not in the careless way most people liked chicken. I tightened my grip on Robin and decided to warn him.

"Um. A few things," I began, swallowing hard. "My roommate is a career jerk."

"The kind that actively wedgie the world?"

I shook my head. "More the kind that finds exactly what to say to make you want to kill him and then yourself."

"Oh that's alright then." Robin winked at me and actually stroked my shoulder for a second. Actually, he might not have. I could have imagined that. "I do that too."